


Eye of the Storm

by TalesOfTheFox



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Banter, Dancing, Developing Friendships, Drinking & Talking, Gen, Slice of Life, Taverns, World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26069092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalesOfTheFox/pseuds/TalesOfTheFox
Summary: As the Fourth War draws to a close, a young draenei shaman takes a moment to herself before her next adventure.
Kudos: 3





	Eye of the Storm

The taverns of Boralus were never empty, but they really came alive when a storm rolled in.  
  
Mylli’s attunement to the elements had allowed her to sense the weather was about to turn, helping her beat the rush and secure a coveted stool beside the bar of the Snug Harbor Inn. She listened to the rain beat against the windows as she felt some of the tension start to drain from her shoulders. The end of the war was a welcome relief, but there was still much to be done.  
  
For the moment, though, she had been granted leave from her duties to the Alliance, and she intended to enjoy every moment of it before returning to her work with the Earthen Ring. Mylli drank deeply from her tankard, savoring the earthy, bitter flavor of the ale as conversations swirled around her, Kul Tirans from all walks of life mingling with the Alliance soldiers who had been renting rooms in the inn. Their laughter filled the room with warmth and life as they sought company and a refuge from the weather. In a corner by the fire a trio of musicians played softly, the gentle melody weaving between the murmur of voices and smoothing it all into a pleasantly blurred sonic tapestry.  
  
“Drop Anchor Dunkel, eh?” a voice said from over her shoulder. “That’ll keep you anchored to your barstool through this blasted storm!”  
  
She spun in her seat to find a Kul Tiran man grinning at her. He seemed about her age, maybe a little older as the humans counted, with an open, expressive face that looked like it was used to smiling. Green eyes peered at her from a sopping wet mop of what she guessed was red hair when it was dry. A dusting of freckles decorated his nose and cheeks in a way that probably won him a lot of attention from whichever gender he fancied.  
  
“How did you know what I was drinking?” Mylli asked, her voice coming out haughtier and more demanding than she had intended. Embarrassment twisted in the pit of her stomach; suspicion was hard to shake, even in times of peace.  
  
“I didn’t, but you just told me!” he replied, chuckling a little at his own cleverness. “You’re a shaman, right?” he went on, gesturing at the crystals and feathers adorning her mantle. “I figured you probably had a taste for the earthier stuff, hah!”  
  
Mylli wanted to be exasperated with him for a joke she had long since grown tired of, but his good nature had her smiling in spite of herself.  
  
“Alright, you have me there,” she answered. “Kul Tiran beer most certainly lives up to its reputation!”  
  
“Aye, that it does.” The man caught the barkeep’s eye and gestured to Mylli’s tankard. “I’ll have what my friend here is having, if you please!”  
  
Mylli arched an eyebrow at him. “Are we friends now just because you know what I like to drink?”  
  
“What better reason than that to be friends! Besides, a stranger’s just a friend whose name you don’t know yet.” There was that infectious smile again; the locals had gotten quite a lot friendlier since she had first arrived with the lady Proudmoore. “Name’s Thomas. Tom to my friends.”  
  
“Mylli. Warm wishes to you.” Thomas-- Tom--’s beer had arrived as they bantered, and he tapped his glass against hers before taking a long drink. She did the same, mirroring his actions in the way she’d learned to since arriving in this foreign land.  
  
Tom turned and leaned his back against the bar, wiping foam from his mouth with a back of one hand as he set his drink down next to hers. He looked back to her again, seeming to really see her for the first time. Mylli watched him watch her as those green eyes took in her tall, straight horns and her dusky blue skin, and braced herself for his curious gaze to turn fearful or lecherous. It always seemed to come down to one of those.  
  
“Don’t get many of your kind around here, even with the war on. You call yourselves draenei, right?” he said, his tongue tripping over the unfamiliar word. She was surprised to find she liked the way it sounded through the rough edges of his accent.  
  
“That’s right,” she answered with a nod, unsure of what else to say. She took another sip of her drink.  
  
An uncomfortable silence fell between them. The rain drummed harder against the windows.  
  
After what felt like an eternity, she was saved when the musicians struck up a much livelier tune, the melody drawing a cheer from the crowd as people leaped from their tables to clear a space for dancing. The drum beats seemed to match the rhythm of her own heart, and she found herself tapping her fingers against the table in time with the music.  
  
“Do you like to dance, Mylli?” Tom asked, giving her another of his easy smiles. She hesitated.  
  
“Oh, I… I do not know any of your dances.”  
  
“Ah, that’s never stopped anyone ‘round here! There’s not much to it, really. C’mon, I’ll show you.” He held out his hand to her. Mylli sighed. So it was going to go that way, then.  
  
“If you are hoping for more than a dance, allow me to save us both the discomfort and put a stop to this now. I am not interested in that sort of company.”  
  
Tom stared at her for a long moment, and she steeled herself for a fight. To her surprise, instead of getting forceful with her, he burst out laughing.  
  
“Is that what’s got you so knotted up?” he said between chuckles. “Tides take me, Mylli, I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea. I really was just offering to teach you a few of the local steps. I, uh, prefer the company of my own kind for that sort of thing, if you catch my drift.”  
  
Mylli’s Common was quite good, but she still had some trouble with innuendo. The meaning of his words finally clicked, and she found herself unable to stop the laughter of her own that bubbled up from her chest. They leaned against each other, breathless with laughter as the other nearby patrons looked on curiously. Eventually their laughter subsided, and she looked at her newfound friend again. “Well, I suppose I won’t make a bigger fool of myself tripping over my own hooves than I did just now. If the offer is still open, I think I would enjoy dancing with you.”  
  
Tom held out his hand to her again, and this time she took it. He whistled low as she slid from her barstool and stood to her full height. “Tides, but you draenei are a tall lot! Don’t think I’ve had to look up at my dance partner before.”  
  
“Kul Tirans are quite large yourselves,” Mylli replied. “I will enjoy not having to stoop for once.”  
  
“It’s that famous beer of ours!” He cried, sweeping her into the rhythm of the dance already underway before she had the chance to form a clever retort.  
  
Kul Tiran dancing proved to be faster and much more athletic than the slower, more sensuous movements she had learned aboard the _Exodar_ , but Tom had been true to his word when he promised her it was easy to learn. The quick, hopping steps were not especially complicated, and it seemed that enthusiasm counted as much as skill. Mylli let herself be whirled around the impromptu dance floor, passing from partner to partner as the cheers and laughter washed over her; the storm had begun to abate, but by now the party was in full swing and promised to continue late into the night.  
  
She looked around the room at smiling faces that had not so long ago regarded anyone wearing the Alliance colors with suspicion, and for the first time in a long while hope bloomed in her chest again. Whatever came next for them all, they’d face the storm together.


End file.
